


places in our hearts well out of proportion

by martialartist816



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Smut, bottom!yibo, top!xiao zhan, virgin!yibo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martialartist816/pseuds/martialartist816
Summary: Call it the magic of the setting, or the costumes, or the characters they’ve been shouldering all summer, but Xiao Zhan feels like this moment is as fleeting as a dream.
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan
Comments: 24
Kudos: 446





	places in our hearts well out of proportion

Yibo has been dropping hints, and Xiao Zhan is no ignorant man.

As the summer heat passed in weeks, Yibo grew more and more comfortable around Xiao Zhan, taking to him like a lotus to water. At first, Xiao Zhan overlooked their growing friendship, saw it as nothing out of the ordinary. But when he observed how Yibo acted around their co-stars, whom he’d spent just as much time with, filming just as many scenes with, and saw that none of their colleagues ever earned that bright smile that Yibo often blinded him with, Xiao Zhan realized he was special.

And to be honest, having Yibo’s attention thrills him. His personality is refreshing in a way Xiao Zhan is not used to. Xiao Zhan cherishes the bond they’ve forged over the past few months.

Now, at the beginning of August, the beginning of the hottest month of the year, Yibo makes it clear in his own language just how much he feels for Xiao Zhan. But it’s unprofessional, it’s dangerous, and Xiao Zhan feigns obliviousness when he feels Yibo staring for too long, or is graced by a smack to the shoulder that somehow dwindles into just an excuse for Yibo to slide his hand down his arm, brush their fingers together briefly, like he’s waiting for Xiao Zhan to catch his hand and hold it there.

He pretends he doesn’t notice, but it’s so hard on his own mental well-being to see the stark difference in how much Yibo will actively seek out physical connection with him, only to shy away from any sort of touch from everybody else.

Xiao Zhan knew he was fucked when, about a month ago, he caught himself entertaining the different scenarios in which he’d reciprocate Yibo’s affection. But only in another universe, of course. Only if they weren’t trying to navigate this highwire of fame, where the more eyes you have on you means the easier it’ll be to make one wrong move and fall off the edge.

He overheard someone mention that they would be on set during Yibo’s twenty-first birthday. Xiao Zhan justified his scrolling through different motorcycle sites to find something Yibo would like as simply being a good co-worker and friend. Xiao Zhan loved buying things for his friends, so this was certainly not out of the ordinary.

Filming at Cloud Recesses occupies them well into the night. As the hours pass under the moon, and more actors and staff become euphoric from working the late hours, Xiao Zhan watches Yibo as he plays around in the courtyard. He scoops some of the immaculate white pebbles from the ground and practices flicking them into the air with his thumb and catching them in his palm again. He doesn’t miss a single rock, no matter how high it flies or how fast it falls, and the delighted grin on his face makes Xiao Zhan so delirious he has to look away.

Xiao Zhan checks his phone. August 4th is seconds away from blending into the 5th, and he starts counting. It’s mostly to himself, and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it at first. But he feels eyes around him and breaks out into a smile. A few meters away, Yibo pauses his invented game to glare at Xiao Zhan, immediately knowing what he’s up to. Xiao Zhan only quirks a brow at him cheekily and counts louder.

He endures the whips from Yibo’s sleeve, fending him off with one arm. In the last five seconds, everyone around them has joined in. When they reach zero, Xiao Zhan’s is the loudest voice to shout, “Wang Yibo, happy birthday!!!” The attacks from the now birthday boy cease as everyone starts clapping and cheering for him. A bit shy, he tips his head in acknowledgement to a few of those around them. When his gaze falls back on Xiao Zhan, he slaps his hands together in an exaggerated formal bow, and for all his protest, Xiao Zhan knows he is happy.

The directors call for a short break to dole out some refreshments in celebration of Yibo’s birthday. The staff are prepared with a big cake, and cameras roll as everyone sings. Yibo’s face glows, calm and warm from the light of the candles. At the end of the song, he clasps his hands together and makes a silent wish.

Xiao Zhan had shipped his gift to their filming location to be sure he could give it to Yibo on the day of his birthday. Some other cast members also got him presents, and Xiao Zhan could sing to the moon how happy he is that Yibo sees how deeply their newfound friends care about him. Sitting off to the side and recharging—because they were on a break, and there was more to get done before they were done for the day, even past the hour of midnight—Xiao Zhan hears Yibo call out in a clear voice.

“Zhan-ge, thank you for the helmet!”

Xiao Zhan feels the camera pan over to him—it’s like a sixth sense for him now—so he schools his face into a gentle smile, though he can’t quite keep the affection out of his eyes or his voice.

“As long as you’re happy,” he says with a shrug.

It’s really nothing, he wants to say. It’s not everything Xiao Zhan wants to give him. But there are ears and eyes everywhere preventing him from admitting it, and that’s if he has the courage to ever voice what he truly wants.

It gets hot from all the bodies in that little room, so after Yibo cuts the cake, Xiao Zhan goes back out into the courtyard for fresh air. The historical setting of the buildings around them, the chatter muffled by walls just behind him, and the high, bright moon in the sky all give an ambiance Xiao Zhan loves. Maybe this is what Cloud Recesses sounded like during the celebration of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s wedding, if the guests were allowed to be so boisterous.

He hears the door slide open and closed, voices carrying more loudly for the moment the door is held open. The sight of Yibo emerging, dressed in his elegant period costume, as beautiful as a spectre in the moonlight, kickstarts something in Xiao Zhan’s chest. Maybe the universe is nudging him over the line they’d been flirting with for the past weeks.

Yibo hasn’t looked at him yet, too busy fumbling with the drastically long sleeves and extra folds of his costume. Apparently he’s gotten a corner of it stuck in the door. Xiao Zhan watches him struggle with amusement, even as something buzzes hotly just under his skin.

When Yibo finally has all the fabric on the correct side of the door, he meets Xiao Zhan’s eyes and doesn’t look at all surprised to find him there. He probably followed Xiao Zhan out on purpose, anyway.

Xiao Zhan says nothing, but Yibo comes to him regardless. He looks like he wants to say something, a vulnerability in his eyes. Xiao Zhan wants it to be just the two of them.

Of course, the man of the hour can’t slip away so easily. When people notice Yibo is gone, they start to trickle out onto set, some of them still carrying cake, some of them with cameras still rolling. Xiao Zhan gives Yibo a private smile, simultaneously apologizing to him and reassuring him.

Wordlessly, they slip into their professional personas and mingle with the crowd. Yibo remains closeby, but when doesn’t he? Xiao Zhan plays with him, showering him with attention because it’s his birthday and people would expect it.

Xiao Zhan finds a bug, and his own brain thrills him. He closes his fingers around the little grasshopper and approaches Yibo with a devious expression.

The second Yibo sees what Xiao Zhan is holding, his eyes go wide, and he all but sprints away. Xiao Zhan follows just behind, pinching the bug and holding it up with his arm outstretched for everyone to see. The cameras eagerly follow the two of them around, even as Yibo runs farther and farther away. He makes an adorable sight positioned in the corner of the garden, pointing a defensive finger at Xiao Zhan and warning him to stay away. Xiao Zhan throws in some light teasing because it really is so cute that Cool Guy Yibo is bested by the smallest creatures in the world.

Whether or not Yibo knows what Xiao Zhan is doing, he leads them far away, far enough that even the cameramen give up and huddle back with the rest of the group. They’ve somehow gotten behind one of the buildings, where the forest creeps up against the wood. There’s enough light from the moon and a few nearby lamps that have been lit for filming. Xiao Zhan tosses the bug as soon as he’s sure the only eyes on him are Yibo’s.

“So mean to me. Even on my birthday,” Yibo mutters, but he’s smiling. “What did I ever do to you?”

Xiao Zhan brushes his hands together, then wipes them on the seat of his robes, scoffing. “By the time I list all your offenses against me, your birthday will be over.”

“Chasing me around with a bug in front of everyone,” Yibo starts, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

“There’s no one around right now, though, is there?” Xiao Zhan says rather pointedly.

“This must be the part where you kill me and feed me to the donkey, right? So that was Zhan-ge’s evil plan all along.”

Xiao Zhan starts advancing on him. Yibo backs away just as many steps, but he’s still got that diabolical grin, and he can’t hold back a few giggles.

He backs Yibo against a post, and they’re under a pergola that’s doused in lamp light. The coolness of Lan Wangji’s white and blue robes suddenly looks so much warmer. There’s no way Xiao Zhan misses how Yibo’s eyes dart to his mouth, then back up again. The mood shifts, and Xiao Zhan’s nervousness from earlier returns. Call it the magic of the setting, or the costumes, or the characters they’ve been shouldering all summer, but Xiao Zhan feels like this moment is as fleeting as a dream.

“Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?” Xiao Zhan asks, dropping all pretense of trying to tease him.

Yibo nods. “All of the gifts were very nice. I couldn’t have asked for anything else.”

“But was it everything?”

In the silence that follows the question, Xiao Zhan’s fingers slide to Yibo’s wrist, then trail upward, under a billowing sleeve. Yibo swallows once, and Xiao Zhan watches the flex in his throat.

“There was something I wished for that I didn’t get yet,” Yibo says.

“Why didn’t you mention it? Somebody could’ve gotten it for you.”

“It’s something only Zhan-ge can give me.”

Xiao Zhan returns Yibo’s gesture from earlier and glances down at his lips. They are so pretty, naturally pouty with the way Yibo carries himself. Xiao Zhan thinks back to when he had a backseat view of Yibo blowing out his birthday candles. Now, he can take them in from deliciously up close.

“Is it the same thing you wished for after we sang to you?” Xiao Zhan murmurs. The hand under Yibo’s sleeve has been softly caressing the inside of his forearm.

Yibo’s head tilts back against the post, his eyes heady and nervous at the same time, and he nods. He seems reluctant to reach out and touch, like he thinks he’ll scare Xiao Zhan away if he chases what—let’s be honest—they’ve _both_ been thinking about for a while now.

“Okay,” Xiao Zhan promises.

Yibo’s mouth gives the slightest of tugs downward. “Okay?” he asks, measured.

Xiao Zhan huffs. “I swear, Yibo, if I’m getting this wrong, I’ll ask you to bury me right here. But please,” he gives Yibo’s arm a little squeeze and shake, “close your eyes for me.”

Yibo bites his lips into his mouth before a quick smile eases onto his face. “Okay,” he repeats, and his eyes slide shut.

Xiao Zhan takes the opportunity to admire the beauty of him. He still has the Lan forehead ribbon on, and Xiao Zhan thinks it contrasts with Yibo’s personality completely. But it frames his face prettily, paints a picture of him. Xiao Zhan touches Yibo’s face, but only barely, because he’s still wearing makeup and they still have work to get back to. His fingers slide over smooth cheeks, a strong jaw. He holds Yibo in place as he leans in even though he knows he won’t go anywhere. Not with how Yibo’s hands float up to clutch the outsides of Xiao Zhan’s sleeves, right above his elbows.

The press of his mouth against Yibo’s is steady and sure, and Xiao Zhan had no idea how badly he wanted it until Yibo responds to him enthusiastically. Xiao Zhan is pulled forward by his costume until he’s flush against Yibo. He tilts his head and relinquishes his hold on Yibo’s face in favor of curling his fingers around and behind his ears. When Xiao Zhan tilts his head to the side, Yibo does the same. The breath of a whimper sounds low in his throat, and it hits Xiao Zhan that this is Yibo’s first kiss. The realization is devastating in the best way possible.

Yibo’s shoes have lifts in them, but Xiao Zhan is still bigger. He traps Yibo against the post, pins him there with just his chest and hips. Yibo shifts against him once, probably to just get more comfortable, but the movement is enough to pull a pleased hum from Xiao Zhan’s throat. He doesn’t think he’d make such a sound until it leaves him.

Whatever Xiao Zhan does, Yibo copies with enthusiasm. The first slide of his tongue against Yibo’s lower lip earns him a gasp before Yibo reciprocates. Xiao Zhan allows the curious tongue to slip into his mouth, lazily petting the base of Yibo’s skull and the soft hair of his wig. Just because, Xiao Zhan sucks on his tongue, and Yibo whines in kind.

He seems to remember that he can do things with his hands too, because he releases Xiao Zhan’s sleeves to wrap his arms around his waist. His embrace is strong, needy, pulling Xiao Zhan closer despite there being so little space between them already. He rolls his stomach once, and Xiao Zhan has to stop their kiss before he definitely does something they’ll both regret, right there in the woods on set with hundreds of people just on the other side of this building.

Yibo’s eyes are dazed and unfocused when Xiao Zhan gazes into them. He rubs Yibo’s cheeks with his thumbs, watching the quick, short breaths that pass in and out of his mouth. Yibo is mesmerizing like this, but isn’t he always?

Xiao Zhan is a little out of breath as well, and he smiles gently through his panting. The air has cooled in the night, but his body is way too hot.

“I managed to do that without messing up your makeup,” Xiao Zhan notes proudly. “How’s mine look?”

Yibo’s fingers circle around one of Xiao Zhan’s wrists. He traps his hand against his face, leaning his cheek into the touch as if Xiao Zhan didn’t _just_ mention the fact that they’re wearing makeup that needs to remain preserved.

But Xiao Zhan lets the thought pass, drowning in that sultry look Yibo is hitting him with.

“You got it wrong,” Yibo says, all slow and deep.

“ _What?_ ”

“You got it wrong,” Yibo repeats, pressing his lips to the inside of Xiao Zhan’s wrist. He keeps going, trailing up his forearm on the outside of his sleeve. “That wasn’t what I wished for.”

Xiao Zhan is already formulating a profuse apology, mortification settling in. He can only hope that Yibo won’t file a report against him as he tries taking a step back. But Yibo won’t let him with the way he’s holding his arm.

“Oh, sh—”

Xiao Zhan can’t even get a proper curse word in before Yibo tugs on his arm and flips their positions. His back straightens out against the post, and his startled gasp ruffles the bangs that frame Yibo’s face.

Yibo kisses him again. Xiao Zhan’s eyes flutter indulgently closed in spite of his racing mind and heart. Maybe Yibo isn’t mad at him, if the firm press of his lips is any indication.

The kiss ends with a loud sound. Head spinning in the best way, Xiao Zhan opens his eyes to find Yibo wearing that same cocky—albeit affectionate—smirk on his face that he always directs toward his co-star.

“When I blew out those candles, I thought, ‘I wish Zhan-ge would take my virginity’,” Yibo says, easy, like he’s answering an interview question.

“Wang Yibo, you are not human!” Xiao Zhan gets out, basically a reflex by now.

Yibo cackles and finally de-crowds Xiao Zhan’s space. Xiao Zhan fixes his costume and hair with a flustered huff, watching Yibo as he nods back in the direction of set.

Stumbling over dead grass and broken branches, hands accidentally brushing together as they walk, Xiao Zhan steals a peek at Yibo and loves the radiance he’s met with.

“Okay,” Xiao Zhan offers.

Yibo looks at him, face full of hope, grin breaking through the dark. “Okay?”

“Only because it’s your birthday,” Xiao Zhan adds before Yibo can get too full of himself.

* * *

The second half of Yibo’s _birthday present_ doesn’t actually go into effect until about a week and a half later. The cast is allotted two days off in the middle of the week so staff can go out on sight and get the perfect B-roll. Xiao Zhan invites Yibo out to dinner, then invites him back to his hotel room before he can think rationally about it. He’s learned that, when it comes to Yibo, nothing is rational anyway.

While Yibo uses his shower, Xiao Zhan finds a channel on the hotel room TV that plays nonstop music, and the genre is nice enough to be gentle background noise. Yibo comes out from the bathroom in just basketball shorts, skin pink from the heat of the water. Xiao Zhan wishes he’d been in there with him to rub him down to such a state.

Patience, Xiao Zhan. They are working toward that tonight.

They trade places, Xiao Zhan going to rinse off quickly. He emerges minutes later in comfortable sweats and a hoodie he left unzipped to expose his chest, toweling his hair. Yibo makes it obvious that he’s staring, and Xiao Zhan tries to gauge if he looks nervous at all. But all he sees is the same intense stare Yibo always floors him with, smoldering and magnified in the low light of the bedside lamp.

“Have you thought about this?” Xiao Zhan asks.

He’s sure Yibo wants this. He just needs to be _sure sure_.

Yibo takes no time answering with, “I’ve been thinking about this since before you offered.”

Xiao Zhan scoffs and has to avert his eyes. He should be tempered by all the remarks Yibo has thrown his way in the past that were even bolder and bordered on nonsensically honest. He might be shy, confronted not only by the pressure of making sure Yibo’s first time blows his mind, but also nervous because Xiao Zhan just likes him _so damn much_.

The smile Yibo gives him is fond, and it imbues Xiao Zhan with the strength to push his fleeting stomach flutters away.

Lowering the towel, he leans over Yibo. He props himself up with one hand braced against the back of the couch, just next to Yibo’s head. With his free hand capturing Yibo’s chin, Xiao Zhan dips his head.

“I better live up to your fantasies.” And he kisses him.

Yibo’s hand flies up to grasp the wrist next to his head. Xiao Zhan lowers his weight onto one knee pressing into the couch as he slowly laps at Yibo’s lips.

He’s more active this time around, always the fastest learner. Yibo tilts his head and opens up for Xiao Zhan, returning the teases with some curious, assertive licks of his own. Xiao Zhan unintentionally groans at the sensation, low in his throat, and Yibo shudders.

Xiao Zhan thinks his arms could be doing better things than just holding him up, so he breaks the kiss to rearrange their layout. Yibo whines petulantly and tries to chase his mouth, but Xiao Zhan breathes out a laugh and ducks out of the way. He doesn’t go far—just parks himself on the couch and pulls a still-pouty Yibo closer to him.

“Come here,” he murmurs and draws Yibo into his lap.

Those long, sturdy legs frame Xiao Zhan’s hips. Yibo settles as close as he can get, pressing them together from their chests down. He’s a warm, comfortable weight in Xiao Zhan’s lap. Xiao Zhan takes the moment to drink in the reality of the man in front of him, cheeks flushed and eyes darkened but sparkling with excitement. Xiao Zhan can’t stop looking at him, constantly wondering what it is about himself that earns the attention of such a beautiful creature.

Yibo is looking at him too. His fingers trace where he can reach on Xiao Zhan’s collarbones, neck, and jaw. Xiao Zhan’s arms wind around his middle, hands flattening against Yibo’s back.

“Having second thoughts?” Xiao Zhan teases with a brow quirked.

“Would never,” Yibo mutters before surging forward.

He holds Xiao Zhan’s face in his hands as he swoops down to kiss him. Xiao Zhan clutches him closer, fingers pressing against the ridges of Yibo’s spine to keep him there. As Yibo kisses him in earnest, sparing no tongue or breath, Xiao Zhan starts to feel the other getting hard in his shorts. The fact that kissing is doing so much to him already is enough to make Xiao Zhan moan. _Fuck_ , Yibo is going to be so senstitive everywhere.

He can’t help how his hands lower themselves down Yibo’s elegant spine. They stop on his ass, not squeezing just yet, but resting above the smooth fabric of his shorts.

“Ge,” Yibo breathes into his mouth, like he’s not sure what to ask for.

Xiao Zhan is hard too, so they might as well not ignore the growing need between them. Holding Yibo’s ass more firmly, Xiao Zhan tips him forward to grind their hips together. The effect it has on them is immediate, both in the blossoming pleasure in Xiao Zhan’s lower belly and in the sweet sound Yibo makes in his throat.

The one movement is enough to show Yibo what can be done to chase pleasure. With all the grace of a dancer, Yibo rolls into Xiao Zhan again and again. He starts slowly, savoring the teasing slide of their cocks through the restrictions of their clothes. On the next few passes, he puts his abdominals to use and pushes himself more thoroughly into Xiao Zhan. Yibo draws a gasp from himself that way, and Xiao Zhan has never been happier to be used as a learning device.

Yibo paws at the open lapels of Xiao Zhan’s hoodie, pushing it off his shoulders and palming the new skin that gets exposed. Xiao Zhan figures he’ll help him, and he takes his hands off Yibo’s body just long enough to slide his arms out of the sleeves and drop the hoodie off to the side. Yibo’s fingers trace the planes of his chest. He breaks the kiss to lean back and look at Xiao Zhan, eyes following his hands as they rub up his arms, down his chest, and back again.

Xiao Zhan’s own fingers find home on Yibo’s thighs, taut chords of muscle from where his has them spread around Xiao Zhan’s lap. He watches Yibo watch him, how Yibo’s tongue swipes slowly across his bottom lip in concentration, all while his fingers gently trace up Yibo’s legs and under his shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Xiao Zhan requests quietly, thumbs massaging Yibo’s inner thighs.

Yibo nods and wordlessly lifts himself onto his knees. Xiao Zhan assumes the task himself, hands dipping under the waistband of Yibo’s shorts at the back and draws them down. Yibo hadn’t bothered to put underwear on after his shower, Xiao Zhan discovers, which is fine, because he didn’t either.

Yibo helps the shorts off the rest of the way and goes to settle back down in Xiao Zhan’s lap, but Xiao Zhan holds him in the upright position on his knees with an arm wound behind his back. Xiao Zhan is eye level with Yibo’s torso, so he presses kisses down the line of his sternum. Yibo’s hands rest delicately on Xiao Zhan’s shoulders, less for balance and more for keeping himself grounded. When Xiao Zhan tilts his head and closes his mouth around a nipple, though, those hands fly into his hair, nails digging pleasantly into his scalp.

“Ah…” Yibo makes a desperate sound and cants his hips forward. His hard cock ruts against Xiao Zhan’s chest, and while it feels amazing, Xiao Zhan wants to get a better feel for him, so to speak.

With his one hand supporting Yibo’s lower back, Xiao Zhan’s other hand reaches between them and wraps around Yibo’s dick. He feels the moment Yibo’s muscles go rigid all over his body. The fingers in his hair tug him forward as he switches sides to lave his tongue over the other nipple.

Xiao Zhan thumbs just under the ridge of Yibo’s cock, collecting the precome that spills from the slit and spreading it over the rest of him. The slide of his hand is a little easier from there, and Xiao Zhan palms him lazily.

Above, Yibo’s breaths start to come out shorter and quicker. His hips rock into Xiao Zhan’s hand, maybe unconsciously, as moans escape him.

“Zhan-ge…”

Xiao Zhan kisses his way up Yibo’s chest and tilts his head back to look at him. Yibo’s face is tipped toward him, eyes barely open, lips parted, cheeks pink. He is stunning. Xiao Zhan reminds himself to file away the image and make sure he’s always grateful that he’s the one who gets to see it.

“Okay?” Xiao Zhan asks delicately, still slowly tugging on Yibo’s cock.

Yibo’s hands scrape through his hair. His body jerks at the sensation of Xiao Zhan touching him, like he isn’t sure if he wants to shy away or crowd closer.

“At this rate, I’ll come soon,” he admits, voice husky.

Xiao Zhan smiles fondly at his honesty. He decreases the attention between Yibo’s legs, but doesn’t pull off completely.

“How long does it usually take you?” He wants to plan, for practicality purposes, to make sure Yibo receives the best, most drawn-out pleasure Xiao Zhan can wring from him tonight. But he’d be lying to himself if he said there isn’t a curiosity he wants satisfied, to think about what Yibo does with himself when he’s alone.

“Usually don’t have a lot of time,” Yibo says. He drops himself back onto Xiao Zhan’s lap and buries his face in his neck, hiding from embarrassment. “Just in the shower, a few minutes… Then I can get back to whatever I was doing before.”

“Oh, Yibo…” Xiao Zhan sighs sympathetically. His fingers play with Yibo’s back, tracing along his ribs and sides. “I’ll show you what it’s like to take your time, make an evening of it. I’ll teach you how you like it.”

Yibo whimpers and presses himself against Xiao Zhan’s cock, still covered by his sweats. “Please, ge.”

Xiao Zhan takes his hands away to wiggle out of his pants. Yibo sits up long enough to help him slide them down, and Xiao Zhan kicks them the rest of the way off. He sits back down on Xiao Zhan’s bare thighs, openly staring at the erection between his legs. Xiao Zhan lets him look for as long as he wants, even lowers a hand to stroke himself and really make a show of it. Yibo bites his lower lip and reaches for Xiao Zhan.

His hand is steady and big against Xiao Zhan’s dick. Yibo’s thumb circles around the tip, making Xiao Zhan moan. Yibo’s learning curve is basically nonexistent, and the simple touches of his hand are enough to make Xiao Zhan’s vision go blurry.

“Keep doing it just like that,” Xiao Zhan encourages, hands stroking up and down his sides. He reaches for the bedside table next to the couch, and it’s a bit of a stretch from where they’re sitting, but Xiao Zhan manages to snatch the small bottle of lube he’d planted there before.

When he resettles, Yibo headily watches Xiao Zhan uncap the lube and squeeze some onto his fingers.

“Have you ever done this before?” Xiao Zhan asks, hoping it’s clear what _this_ means.

“I’ve wanted to,” Yibo says. The way he’s staring at Xiao Zhan’s fingers makes it obvious he’s earnest. “Never got around to it.”

“That’s okay,” Xiao Zhan assures. “All you have to do is relax, and I’ll take care of you.”

Yibo pulls himself closer with one arm around Xiao Zhan’s neck. The position eliminates any space between them, and Yibo opens his hand to palm the both of them together.

Xiao Zhan breathes through the distraction and brings his slick fingers behind Yibo. He presses the middle finger against the hole between his legs, just touching and gently rubbing. Yibo hums and rocks his hips, inviting the stimulation. Xiao Zhan feels confident when he presses one finger inside, dragging it back and forth with a steady rhythm. The gasp Yibo gives him is divine, and they’ve only just started.

Yibo mouths wetly at Xiao Zhan’s neck and shoulder even as he groans. Xiao Zhan doesn’t rush, his free hand trailing up and down Yibo’s thigh. The muscle is still tense, and Xiao Zhan makes it his mission to reduce Yibo to a boneless mess before the night is up.

The rhythm on his dick devolves into something less firm and sure. Yibo pants moisture onto Xiao Zhan’s skin as he shifts his hips into the intrusion. When it feels like his body is asking for more, Xiao Zhan wiggles the second finger inside and massages.

Yibo lets out a noise that sounds like something he tried to swallow down instead of voicing. Xiao Zhan moves his free hand to Yibo’s back and turns his mouth into his jaw.

“Still okay?” he asks, rubbing Yibo’s back.

Yibo nods his head again, proving himself by rocking fully back onto Xiao Zhan’s hand. Xiao Zhan kisses his ear before teasing the lobe between his teeth.

It’s almost too much for Xiao Zhan to have a writhing Yibo on top of him, coupled with the fleeting touch of his hand that gets less and less steady as the minutes go by. His cock aches with the need to be where Yibo is so hot and tight, nearly ready for him. But he schools himself with the promise that, as he mentioned to Yibo not long ago, drawing out the pleasure will make it that much more worth the wait in the end.

He keeps his fingers sliding in and out, lazy, thorough. Yibo all but shakes on top of him.

“Come on, ge. I’m ready.” Yibo says when he finds his voice again. It lacks its usual deadpan impatience, replaced by bald-faced need, flooring Xiao Zhan with how open he sounds. What an honor for him to be someone Wang Yibo can be vulnerable around. “Want you.”

“Are you sure?” And it’s less _Are you sure you’re ready_ and more _Are you sure you want me to be the one who does this for you?_

“I swear if you make me way any more—” Yibo starts to threaten, cut off by a hiccup of a moan.

Xiao Zhan giggles softly, but he complies. Carefully pulling his fingers out, he braces his wet hand under Yibo’s ass to support him. With the other hand around Yibo’s back, Xiao Zhan gets to his feet with the other still koala-ed around him. Yibo tenses at the movement, wrapping arms and legs fully around Xiao Zhan for fear of falling.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“As much as I’d love to have you fuck yourself on me right here on the couch, I think the bed will be more comfortable for us both.”

He deposits Yibo on the hotel sheets with a _fwump_ because he’s heavier than he looks. The plush covers eat him up when he lands, his body long and gorgeous and framed in white. Yibo brings his arms over his head, crossed at the wrist, and tilts his head to the side. He lowers his eyelids at Xiao Zhan, hair falling away from his face. Xiao Zhan’s jaw might drop a little. He chalks it up to Yibo’s penchant for making himself a treat to the eye, spending half his life modeling and transubstantiating his body into living, breathing art.

Yibo clocks the look on Xiao Zhan’s face and smiles. “Just gonna stare at me all night? I thought you said you were gonna fuck me, take your time, _make an evening of it_.”

Xiao Zhan clicks his tongue in the face of his own words from earlier. He kneels on the bed and tugs Yibo’s ankles to spread his legs. Yibo giggles and tries to worm his legs out of Xiao Zhan’s tickling fingers. He must give up easily, because Xiao Zhan never wins against him, but he takes the victory as it is and settles his hips between Yibo’s thighs.

“Hush, you frustratingly beautiful boy,” Xiao Zhan tells him, and he goes for the lube again.

Yibo bats his eyes at him. “Zhan-ge is beautiful.”

Having a decent amount pooled in his palm, Xiao Zhan caps the bottle and wags it naggingly in Yibo’s direction. “We are not starting that now.”

Yibo bites his lip around another giggle, and his eyes fall down to where Xiao Zhan starts coating himself in the clear substance. The smile on his face takes on a new quality as his eyes darken. His legs restlessly squeeze at Xiao Zhan’s waist.

Xiao Zhan knows he promised them both he wouldn’t rush, but the touch of his own hand is enough to make him gasp. The sight of Yibo sprawled bare and ready for him below is something Xiao Zhan will never be able to get out of his head—he wouldn’t want to anyway—and he has no idea how he’ll be able to go back to acting with Yibo when their break is over. Maybe Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian will have more chemistry on screen than the directors are prepared for.

“I’m starting now,” Xiao Zhan announces as he takes Yibo’s thigh in one hand to hold him open.

“Thank you,” Yibo breathes.

Xiao Zhan halts where he is and raises his eyes to Yibo’s face.

“For what?”

Yibo’s eyes go wide, and his face flushes adorably. A big grin is already forming on Xiao Zhan’s face, making Yibo pout. He glares at Xiao Zhan, but their position takes away from his normally threatening aura. “For starting,” he counters stubbornly.

Xiao Zhan breathes a little laugh and strokes Yibo’s thigh. “You’re welcome anyway.”

Shifting forward, Xiao Zhan holds himself steady as he pushes the first few inches into the give of Yibo’s body. Watching himself disappear between Yibo’s legs is intoxicating as it is, but Xiao Zhan has to tear his gaze away to pay attention to the changes in Yibo’s expression. He studies for any signs of discomfort, but the most he finds is pinched concentration. Above Yibo’s head, his fingers twist in a pillow.

“Still okay?” Xiao Zhan asks.

Yibo pants gently and takes a minute to answer. He levels Xiao Zhan with a sultry gaze.

“You keep asking that.”

“Well, I kind of have to.” Xiao Zhan half shrugs. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Yibo promises, and he rolls his hips once. “I haven’t asked you how you’re feeling.”

Xiao Zhan laughs despite the fire that Yibo sends through him with one motion. “I think it’s obvious how I’m feeling.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear about it.” Yibo stretches his back. Xiao Zhan is captivated by the length of him, the waves of his ribs visible under his skin, how he’s still hard and leaking onto his stomach. Xiao Zhan draws one hand up Yibo’s abs, marveling at how firm he is. “Tell me I’m making you feel good, Zhan-ge. Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

Xiao Zhan pushes the rest of the way in, drawing a moan from both of them. Their skin is warm and wet where they’re pressed together in the middle, and Xiao Zhan’s fingers tremble a little as he wraps his hands around Yibo’s hips.

“You’re making me feel incredible, Yibo,” Xiao Zhan confesses breathlessly. “I’ve never felt anything like this for anyone in my life.”

If Yibo notices his slip-up between _with anyone_ and _for anyone_ , Xiao Zhan is sure he’s distracted by the way he rocks forward and keeps going, pushing himself in and out at a slow and steady pace.

Yibo arches up, seeking pleasure. His hands come down to wrap around Xiao Zhan’s forearms for support. When Xiao Zhan is absolutely certain Yibo is fully adjusted to him, he picks up in speed and power and sets a new rhythm altogether. Yibo positively whines for him, throwing his head to the side and creating a mess of his hair. His chest heaves as he tries to calm his breath, and that’s when Xiao Zhan notices his blush has crept all the way down his neck.

Yibo makes grabby hands and pulls Xiao Zhan down on top of him. His pace stutters for a second as he redistributes his weight, but the new position allows them to be closer than before, pressed together with no space between them. Yibo flexes his thighs where they’re locked around Xiao Zhan’s waist. As soon as he’s in reach, Yibo cups his face and kisses him deeply.

Xiao Zhan kisses back with a hum, slowing his speed from earlier to draw out the sensation. He feels the drag of his cock as he moves within Yibo, sending tendrils of pleasure radiating from his center outward. He is surrounded by Yibo in every conceivable way, all of his senses invaded by this beautiful man.

Yibo pets his hair, scrapes his nails at the back of his neck, responds wonderfully to everything Xiao Zhan gives him. His moans reduce to mewling and whimpering, and Xiao Zhan believes he has reached the point he was aiming for all night. So he reaches between them and wraps Yibo’s cock in his fist. His skin is hot and hard, and Xiao Zhan wonders if this is the longest he’s ever gone without coming.

It won’t be much longer, not with how Yibo sings at the contact.

“Ge, please, ge,” Yibo begs into his mouth, hands going back to clutching Xiao Zhan’s cheeks.

While Xiao Zhan loves to be held like that, he needs one thing to preserve his own sanity. With his free hand, he takes one of Yibo’s hands from his face and presses it back down into the mattress, lacing their fingers together. Just one twist of his wrist, and Yibo has to break their kiss to moan. He squeezes Xiao Zhan—his hand and his cock—as his orgasm takes. Xiao Zhan fucks him through it, gently, lovingly, and gives Yibo’s hand a squeeze in return.

With Xiao Zhan’s touch making him oversensitive between his legs, Yibo gasps and wriggles under the intense stimulation.

“Zhan-ge,” Yibo calls desperately, and that does it.

“Fuck,” Xiao Zhan curses in the moment. He’s still sane enough to be a gentleman and pull out. Using his hold on Yibo to ground himself, Xiao Zhan removes his hand on Yibo’s flagging erection to fist around his own cock. With his forehead pressed to Yibo’s, breath coming short and quick, Xiao Zhan spills into the space between them.

He’s vaguely aware of Yibo’s thumb stroking his hand. As he catches his breath, Xiao Zhan watches as the result of their sex collects in the seam of Yibo’s torso and thigh.

When his heart rate returns to something more or less normal, Xiao Zhan looks into Yibo’s eyes only to find him already staring. The expression he gets is another flavor of the longing glances he’s caught Yibo sending his way before, only this one is raw and open and something Xiao Zhan wants to store in a jar to keep when he needs to see it again.

He can’t help himself from pressing a sweet kiss to Yibo’s lips.

Yibo kisses back, but he’s too spent to do much else.

Xiao Zhan ungracefully flops onto the bed next to him, careful not to get the sheet messy. Once feeling returns to his legs, he’ll have to hop into the shower again. This time, he thinks, he can drag Yibo in there with him.

“You said _thank you_ to me earlier,” Xiao Zhan says.

Yibo groans and scrubs a hand over his face. “You don’t have to bring it up.”

“I was just going to say,” Xiao Zhan amends, taking Yibo’s hand away from his face so he can see him, “I think I should be the one saying it. Thank you for trusting me with something like this.”

Yibo turns to him, eyes tired and soft. His fingers brush against Xiao Zhan’s chin with the barest of touches, thumb coming up to stroke his bottom lip. “It couldn’t have been anyone else,” he mutters.

The meaning of his words settles in his chest, spreads out like ink to a page. Xiao Zhan beams, and he takes Yibo’s fingers and kisses his palm.

“Ah, Yibo. It makes me so happy that you feel the same way.”

Yibo breaks out into a similar smile, before drawing Xiao Zhan in for another, fuller kiss. Xiao Zhan sighs into the kiss, gets used to Yibo’s taste. Yibo’s foot teases at Xiao Zhan’s bare leg, and he has to pull away and stand from the bed before they truly exhaust themselves.

Laughing, Xiao Zhan tugs a pouty Yibo to the edge of the bed and makes him get up too, promising a shower and a nice long night’s sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [i highly recommend the BTS footage if you haven't already seen it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwZHiJoN9uo)


End file.
